


give me your far and i’ll give you my all

by missgoalie75



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: F/M, Honeymoon, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13050291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgoalie75/pseuds/missgoalie75
Summary: Sana and Yousef on their honeymoon and beyond.





	give me your far and i’ll give you my all

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mgs3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mgs3/gifts).



> **spoilers/warnings:** post-series; mentions of genocides including the armenian genocide and the holocaust.
> 
> **disclaimer:** title is from ‘be with you always’ by mighty oaks.
> 
> a/n: i hope you enjoy this, @vildeliens! thanks so much for @rumaan and @thickskinandelasticheart for running this shindig and being supportive of me, especially @rumaan because i bombarded her with questions - you’re a sweetheart. and thank you to @alciavikkander for beta’ing as i write because i like flirting with deadlines lately. if there is anything incorrect or needs to be changed - spelling, concepts, anything - please let me know! while i’ve done my research, lord knows i can miss a thing or two.

Sana is staring at her ring again. She was never much into jewelry and it’s still an adjustment three days later, but when it catches her eye, she feels her stomach flutter, a lightness reaching her sternum that makes her breathless. She went for something simple, even though Yousef offered to buy her "the biggest diamond that he could reasonably purchase," which she found thoughtful, but she’ll leave the gaudy diamond rings for Vilde.

Yousef nudges her knee and she looks up at his face, slightly embarrassed at being caught, which is silly because it’s her _wedding band_ and she’s _married_ to him, but it’s still so new it almost makes her feel like she’s seventeen again.

He’s smiling.

"I know I said it before, but it looks really good on you."

Even though he has, it still makes her smile, and she was there when they went shopping for each of their rings.

Their flight is called, ready for boarding. She takes his hand and they go.

**

Sana had always imagined herself marrying later in life, most likely after finishing medical school. She figured she would never meet anyone sooner and if she did, it would be the perfect way to end one part of her life and start another. Except Yousef happened.

While she didn’t want to be a teenage bride and felt there was more she wanted to accomplish for herself, he also wanted to find his faith again. So while they didn’t _wait_ – it was mutually agreed upon that they needed to grow up.

They both went to university, her focusing on medicine and him in anthropology that slowly ended up evolving into anthropology, religion, and photography, which _then_ translated into maintaining a lifestyle blog in his free time. She thought it was interesting – her friends, old and new, thought it was great, but Sana didn’t expect the popularity that came with it. When she first began studying for her entrance exam to get into the University of Oslo’s medical program, he had received his first sponsor.

(She told him if he ever accepted an offer from FitTea, she would not only dump him, but she would use his body as a cadaver.)

Her final year was stressful – finishing her application for medical school, planning a wedding that was to happen a few weeks after graduating (although her family blessedly did most of the difficult work on her behalf).

(She practiced saying _qabul, qabul, qabul_ at night.)

While they are going on their honeymoon, after the week, they are traveling for his website; it’s a project Yousef had been considering for almost two years, using his photography skills to capture all types of religion. They had to narrow the list down, which had them traveling from England to Sydney to Iran to South America – while she loved the idea of seeing the world, she still had to go to medical school in this lifetime.

And besides, she wanted a proper honeymoon that involved a nice hotel (with a very comfortable bed) and a warm beach.

So, they’ve narrowed it down to Turkey, Lebanon, Italy, Morocco, and Hungary.

(Yousef really wanted Germany and Sana understood why – the significance of it. Maybe it was selfish for her to say no, but he understood. They’re at least good about that.)

Thankfully, there are direct flights from Oslo to Antalya – that had been a stipulation in picking a honeymoon destination, ruling out Bodrum and Çeşme. If they were going to be flying a lot, she wanted to get on one plane and be done with it.

Yousef developed the itinerary, which was sweet, although she’s ninety-percent sure that they will deviate from the itinerary due to not wanting to leave the hotel room. While her first time with Yousef was intimate and lovely, she would like to practice to the point where she understands why Eva and Vilde gush about it and why Noora blushes profusely when she’s teased about William. Not that Sana would ever get to that point, but she would at least like to be in silent agreement.

The flight is four hours and Yousef sleeps for most of it, despite doing his best to stay awake and talk, but Sana doesn’t mind holding his hand as his head lolls against the headrest in surprisingly deep slumber as she listens to podcasts that her roommate from university recommended.

Yousef wakes up thirty minutes before landing and cheerfully notes how quick the flight was. Sana shoots him an unimpressed look and he smiles back, teeth and all. She scrunches her nose at him and he laughs a little, fingers gently touching her wedding band. She re-crosses her legs and he raises an eyebrow, which she mimics. He asks if she’s interested in room service for dinner.

"Already disrupting the itinerary that you took such care in creating," she tuts with a teasing smile.

"I’ve allowed room for adjustments in the case of certain pressing matters were to be attended," he quips.

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"Oh, a number of things, really. But best not discussed publicly."

She snorts; a little shy, embarrassed, and amused. "I bet not."

He just smiles and her heart aches with love.

**

"It’s even better than the pictures," Yousef sighs, fingers tapping against the camera around his neck in thought.

She had seen the photos, of course, on her laptop while taking a break between studying for exams, but he’s right – it’s stunning. Her eyes drift around the room and eventually land on Yousef, who has finally brought the camera to his face, imagining shots. He’ll want a sunset or a sunrise since that is his cliché staple in his Instagram account. He’ll beg for her to be in a picture or two, even though she likes to limit her presence since she’s tired of deleting random Instagram friend requests on a daily basis. And then after that, it’s whatever inspires him.

She had already called her parents to let them know they landed safely and she finally begins to go through her numerous text messages, ranging from the congratulatory to the downright inappropriate. She opens her messages with Jamila, who has sent a few photos she took from the wedding. Sana smiles and writes back, "Thank you <3"

From Jamilla Bikarim:  
 _What are you doing texting me when you should be spending all your time with your new husband???_  
  
From Sana Bakkoush:  
 _He’s in a photography zone and I can’t see how that will be sustainable when my phone is blowing up with texts and Facebook and Instagram notifications._

From Jamilla Bikarim:  
 _You are crazy!! Enjoy your time alone with Yousef!!_

From Sana Bakkoush:  
 _Okay, okay, bye! Xo_  
  
Sana shakes her head and puts her phone away. "I’m going to unpack before prayer and lunch."

He finally looks away from his camera to stare at her. She doesn’t have an artistic bone in her body, but she wants to capture this. He smiles and she smiles back.

**

At lunch, they go over what they want to do for the week. She’s insistent on the next two days involving relaxing in a cabana with little to no human contact. He laughs and agrees, rearranging two of the days. They have a tour of the city with a boat trip to the Düden Waterfalls; they’re to visit Termessos, Phaselis, and Kaleiçi, notably for the Tekeli Mehmet Paşa Mosque, which will be Yousef’s first post for his project.

And then they’re off.

At one point after finishing their meals, they’re sipping coffee and looking out into the marina in contemplative silence. Their eyes always fall back on each other.

**

(She’s very, very glad for those two days, even though the use of the cabana is limited.)

**

Yousef is close to bouncing on his feet as they descend down the spiral staircase at the Upper Düden Waterfalls to a cave behind the waterfalls. His fingers dance impatiently against his camera and she keeps an arm looped tightly with his, to make sure he doesn’t fall.

But once they make it, staring at the water streaming down, he takes it in. She always loves this part the most, when he gives himself a moment to appreciate. Once he’s ready, he brings his camera to his face.

She wanders a little, takes her own photos on her phone and stops by the tombs. Yousef finds her eventually and stands beside her.

"Not a bad resting place, hm?" he says.

"Not bad at all."

**

After lunch, they get on a bus a travel to Termessos.

"Remember, it’s a thousand meters above sea level, at least, so if you get dizzy, let me know," Yousef says.

She thinks he’s really saying that for himself, but it’s still good to know that he’s mindful.

The road to the city becomes steep and the tour guide points out a side window, talking about King Street, an ancient road almost two thousand years old that led to the center of the city. 

They stand in the main square and even Sana can’t hold back her awe of the theatre, but her favorite part is definitely the smaller temple dedicated to Artemis, that was paid for by a woman and her husband with their own money. Even though it’s mostly ruins, the lone-standing cella, beautifully detailed, entrances her.

On the way back to the city, Sana picks a photo of the Artemis temple and edits it for Instagram while Yousef scribbles on a too small notepad. She tries to read through his messy scrawl and realizes he may be changing his project to incorporate the worshipping of the Greek gods.

**

For their trip to Phaselis, they wander through the ruins and amphitheater and baths, but they also leave plenty of time to sit on towels and bask in the sun by the water.

Although that night, when she takes off her hijab, she realizes her hijab shifted when she fell asleep, so she has a tan line by her chin too noticeable for her liking.

Yousef runs a finger along it, smiling. "I think a day or two in the sun will get rid of it."

She scowls and he laughs. "We can match – my tan lines are worse," he says, lifting his short sleeve shirt to reveal his own stark tan line. She runs a hand over it as his hand comes back to her face. She smiles and kisses the center of his palm.

**

The skyline of Kaleiçi, which is the old town center of Antalya, is punctuated by the Yivli Minare Mosque, which stands proudly as a historic landmark.

Yousef originally considered starting his project off with this mosque, but Sana knows how dirty-minded people are and she’d rather not see dick jokes in her husband’s comments section.

So, the Tekeli Mehmet Paşa Mosque was the second choice. Admittedly, there are mosques with more impressive exteriors, but there’s something about how open and airy it is inside – the white walls and arcs and simply stained windows letting in light. Her prayers are quiet and peaceful and when they step out into the city, they don’t speak for a while.

**

"I can’t wait to show you Istanbul," he says in between kisses, his voice soft and low.

She still has that first picture saved, and all the ones after that.

She kisses him again and brings him back to right now and his body pressing into hers. Sometimes he thinks a little too far ahead, which is something that they probably have in common, but she’s trying hard to focus on the here and now, especially since they’ll never have this again.

(Of course they’ll make more happy memories and they’ll take other trips together, but nothing will be quite like this, which makes her nostalgic even though it’s not over yet. She - _they_ still have time.)

**

The flight to Istanbul is a little over an hour and the drive to the hotel takes even less time, so by the time they’ve settled in, they’ve barely lost half a day.

Yousef is almost vibrating with excitement as he delves into his research, having saved three churches to visit and "what was a former Greek Orthodox church, then became an imperial mosque, and _now_ is a museum – that’s a must, of course, but I don’t know if I should include it, what do you think, Sana?"

She’s had her phone out for the last fifteen minutes, looking up photos of St. Anthony of Padua and Cathedral of the Holy Spirit - the largest Catholic churches in Istanbul. The archways are incredible in St. Anthony, but there’s something about the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit that interests her, how dark and mysterious it is.

There are also Armenian churches, most of which are ruins or have been converted into museums, but Yousef has Surp Krikor Lusavoric Aremenian Orthodox Church and Church of the Redeemer, which Sana is surprised is still managing to stand, even if half of it is destroyed.

Yousef had already made an arrangement with a tour guide to see Ahrida Synagogue, which is one of the oldest synagogues in the city and will probably debate on a second one once he has access to his laptop.

As for mosques – Yousef has narrowed it down to four. As much as Sana loves Islam, she would like to go to shopping in markets and try new food and do other things besides stand in religious structures.

She tells him as much and he smiles sheepishly. "Sorry."

She sighs and touches his hand. "It’s okay, because you’re going to have to go to Serdar-ı Ekrem with me and watch me shop."

He grins. "If you think I’m not going to make you watch me try caps, you’re whack, girl."

She laughs.

**

They plan their trips to mosques like the Blue Mosque and Süleymaniye Mosque so Yousef can take his pictures and then they both pray.

They spend three days in the Sultanahmet District alone and Sana’s feet are close to throbbing at the end of each day. They visit Yousef’s grandparents for a day and there’s something about the way his grandfather smiles that makes Sana’s heart clench.

She loves how elevated Yousef is, how much he obviously loves this city with his heart and soul. (They may have missed a dinner reservation or two because of how much she loves it.)

There is a day when they visit the Church of the Redeemer and as they stare at the small, half-destroyed church, she watches him sink into contemplation, sadness, anger.

"It’s a shame we should carry like the Germans, but Turkey won’t admit to it," Yousef says quietly.

She nods. 

They stand there for a little bit longer.

**

On their last full day in Istanbul, they take a cruise through the Bosphorus strait, seeing the Topkapı Palace, Hagia Sophia and the Blue Mosque from a distance. The sunset takes her breath away and she takes it in as best she can.

**

The city that Sana was most excited about going to since Yousef brought up this idea, it was Beirut.

So on this flight, she’s the one eagerly looking out the window, marveling at how small the city seems from high above, but is thrumming with culture and religion and life.

She has even planned out that she would like for Yousef to compare and contrast the Emir Assaf Mosque and the Mohammad Al-Amin Mosque – the old with the new. She has also picked a few restaurants already.

He accepts every request and demand with a smile that hasn’t changed since they were teenagers.

**

Sana loves this city.

She loves drinking a coffee on Gemmayze Street and she loves the Souk el Tayeb, trying new foods and fresh fruit. She loves the extensive history held in the National Museum and in the streets under her feet. She loves how undeniably modern it is too – a contradiction not quite understood, but still beautiful.

She even loves driving almost two hours outside of Beirut to Baalbek, seeing the Temple of Macchus in its glory. Although she wonders who the architect was, if he could’ve ever imagined that something would still be standing almost two thousand years later. All she knows is that she would make sure anything she created would have her name all over it.

"No way is anyone getting credit for my genius – especially some stupid white man," Sana snarks.

Yousef throws his head back and laughs. "I have no doubt."

She also takes so many pictures in Beqaa Valley for family and friends that Yousef offers his professional camera. She likes taking photographs on her phone because the memories are easy to access. 

They sit under cedar trees, Sana’s concerns about school fading so far into the back of her mind that it’s almost if they’ve disappeared with the wind. Yousef laces his fingers with hers and she thinks he’s going to talk about Mótto – a restaurant where you can pay what you think is fair – and walking along the Corniche to watch the sunset, or maybe about the American University of Beirut and its Medical Center, but instead his eyes are shut, his face turned toward the sun.

She shuts her eyes and does the same.

**

At one point, they walk by Maghen Abraham Synagogue and Yousef shakes his head. "Can’t believe this _still_ isn’t open," he mutters, bringing his camera to his face to take a picture.

Sana had read articles a few months ago to help Yousef, remembering phrases like "the region is on fire," when talking about why the synagogue was closed. Sana frowns, but doesn’t say anything.

**

On their last day in Lebanon, Sana looks over the itinerary for Rome and grimaces. There are so many Catholic churches in this city, they are as populus as Starbucks.

There is one mosque in the city - the Mosque of Rome - and while it’s one of the largest in Europe, so the internet claims, Sana isn’t very impressed. There is also only one synagogue - the Great Synagogue of Rome. For a country that holds some of the most recognizable art and architecture in the world, they are not very creative with naming things.

She gets why, but that doesn’t mean she’s looking forward to it as much as the other cities on their trip.

**

Okay, so, maybe seeing the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, the Spanish Steps – _all_ of the landmarks are admittedly impressive and kind of strange to see in person, and _yes_ , pizza from Rome is pretty delicious and _fine_ , St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican is pretty spectacular, but that doesn’t mean she’s not on her guard. She’s relieved to see other women wearing hijab, but she’s...on guard.

She wears hijab with light colors and Yousef wears long sleeves and sweats through all his caps and she kisses him in the peace of their hotel room until her mouth is numb. They have kebab that’s good and gelato multiple times a day because Yousef is addicted. 

The sun is relentless and Villa Borghese takes too long with the bus, but it’s peaceful.

The Mosque of Rome is great, although when she heard from a tour guide that the height of the minaret had to be shorter than the highest point of the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica, she almost laughs out loud. Of course.

She reads over Yousef’s drafts of his blog posts. He talks about the beauty and horror of keeping traditions of the past in the modern day and age. She notes a pattern in the shots of the Church of the Redeemer and synagogues and closed mosques – plaques in remembrance of lives lost – and how Italy has the fourth largest Muslim population in Europe, but only has eight mosques. _Eight._

She bites the inside of her cheek and fixes any grammatical errors she finds.

**

(Sometimes she’s so scared that the reasons that took him away from Islam will come back with a force that will barely leave her standing.)

**

Sana had gone to Marrakech once when she was a girl; she doesn’t remember much beyond eating dates and walking through souk stalls filled with silks and jewelry and other goods. She remembers burning her tongue on mint tea and to this day, either waits too long to drink hot mint tea, or will drink it iced deep into winter.

She takes charge when she goes through the souks again, haggling with vendors until she got a fair price, Yousef watching in awe and when they leave, she’s pretty sure he shoots men looks of sympathy.

"You are a force of nature, beloved," he says with a lopsided smile.

There’s the Majorelle Garden, filled with trees and plants she had never seen before. It feels like she’s in a dream.

She takes just as many pictures of their surroundings as she does of Yousef. 

As soon as she posts on Instagram, the first few likes she gets are from Los Losers, which makes her smile fondly.

**

They visit the Koutoubia Mosque and as stunning as it is, when they find out that the original mosque was torn down by the grandson because he wanted to claim that _he_ built the tallest structure of the city, Yousef shakes his head in amusement.

"The ego is too much," he snorts.

"Islam has no place for selfish desires," Sana says dryly.

"A human trait, although rebuilding an entire mosque is on the ridiculous side."

"I’ll say."

**

The Ben Youssef Medersa is interesting, but it doesn’t capture her like it does Yousef, who finds the teachings of the scripture to be fascinating, how groups of people interpret it differently.

"Can you imagine learning here?" Yousef says in awe.

While she was originally unhappy to have left so early in the morning to be one of the first people here, she appreciates it now.

**

Yousef surprises her in the hotel when he hands her a small bag with a sheepish expression.

They’re hoops filled with a familiar floral pattern made from tiles. 

"If you don’t –"

"Shut up, I love them."

He laughs. "Okay, good."

"How did you manage to buy these without my knowing?"

"You were texting the science crew and how Britt hooked up with Anette again and potentially staging an intervention."

Sana gives a long-suffering sigh at the reminder. "No matter the friend group, some things just don’t change. And not necessarily in a good way."

"An intervention would maybe help. Sometimes people need a little nudging when it comes to admitting their feelings," he points out.

"If that’s a jab at me, I will not acknowledge it," she scoffs.

"Never a jab. Especially since we’re married, so no missed opportunities."

She punches his shoulder and goes to get ready for dinner, changing into her new and beautiful earrings.

**

Sana has cousins still residing in Morocco, so they go out of their way to see them. Two of her cousins are heavily pregnant and couldn’t fly to the wedding, so they are lavished accordingly.

Sana is led into the kitchen and is immediately being taught the magic of cooking tagine and the perfect way to make couscous, except everyone keeps talking over one another to include their various, small changes to the family recipes. She doesn’t know how Yousef managed to break away from the men, but he sneaks his way into the kitchen and begins taking _notes_.

"Well, I will say it’s a good thing we live in a country with plenty of seafood because all of these dishes sound great," Yousef says on their way home, scrolling through meals on his phone.

"Enjoy making them."

"You won’t help?"

"Maybe with the vegetables."

He grins.

**

They leave for Budapest late in the day, given that there only two flights during the week that go from Marrakech to Budapest – the longest flight of the trip at over four hours.

Sana’s tired and stares at her face in the bathroom mirror, hating how dry her skin feels. She looks forward to coming home and actually _building_ a home for themselves. She misses her parents and her brother and her friends. (It could be her time of the month speaking, but she refuses to be controlled by her fluctuating hormones.)

She removes pins from her hijab and begins her night routine.

**

The list of religious sites heavily favors synagogues, which isn’t very surprising to her, but those of other faiths are interesting, even though she has difficulty pronouncing _Sziklatemplom_ and just calls it the ‘cave church.’

She is not impressed at how many mosques there are that have been converted to Roman Catholic churches or are no longer in religious use.

But for their first day, they go to Castle Hill to see the Buda Castle, which has a view of the Danube River that makes her pause for a moment or two.

They meet a couple a few years older than them traveling for their honeymoon. Sana and Yousef give them tips about where to go in Istanbul and they give them suggestions on what else they can do in Budapest.

"The baths truly are amazing – I truly feel like most of my aches have reduced, somehow," the woman gushes.

Sana smiles tightly. "Yeah, we read something about that."

She had also read about how two women were kicked out of a bath for wearing burkinis.

Yousef eyes bounce from Sana to the couple. "I personally hate the idea of public baths – all those people sharing water? It just rubs me the wrong way. Like water parks."

The couple grimaces. "Fair point," they allow.

Sana knows the couple meant well, but she’s annoyed all the same.

**

They visit the Hungarian Parliament Building, which is worthy of being the largest building in Hungary and while walking down to see the Dohány Street Synagogue, they take a wrong turn and walk along the Danube River, catching sight of dozens of sculpted shoes along the embankment.

She can hear Yousef’s breathing hitch in his throat when he reads, ‘ _To the memory of the victims shot into the Danube by Arrow Cross militiamen in 1944-45._ ’

He stares at each pair, as if trying to commit them to memory, and she gently tugs on his arm to urge him to continue on.

He’s quiet during the twenty-minute walk. She uses the time to look up the synagogue properly, surprised that its decorations were inspired by Islamic styles. She tries not to focus too much on the pictures, wanting to appreciate it in person.

The visit makes her heart heavy at the memorials for lives taken during the Holocaust. She swallows over a lump in her throat when she sees the gravestones, how they had no choice but to bury their dead in the courtyard.

Afterwards, they go to an Islamic center for afternoon prayers, but she can’t shake the look of despair on his face when they go inside.

**

"Yousef," she says with a sigh. "Please say something."

Yousef is sitting on their bed, refolding clothes. "It’s a lot."

"I know, but you had some idea, right? That’s why you picked Budapest? Why you wanted go to Berlin originally?"

He won’t look at her. They’ll have to do their Maghrib prayers in a half hour.

"What’s the lesson to be learned from this journey?" Sana asks suddenly. His eyes immediately lift to look at her. "Was this a sick way of torturing yourself? You already had your reasons from walking away from Islam. We know people do evil things in the name of Allah, God, Yahweh – whatever people identify with. Muslims understand more than most what it’s like to be persecuted."

"I know, I know," Yousef insists. "I just – I wanted to see it all for myself. In as many countries and cultures as I could. It hurts, you’re right, it’s a form of torture, my heart _aches_ that millions of people continue to be senselessly murdered for their beliefs, but I think it’s important for me to carry."

She forces herself to breathe. She sits down on the edge of the bed. "What’s important?"

"To remember." He runs a hand through his hair. "Because how else are we going to have a chance of being better?"

She reaches out to touch his face, to stop a tear from falling. "You anthropologists think too big," she says softly. "You know, before this trip, I researched Christianity and Judaism when I had some free time. I’ve always known they’re the Abrahamic religions and I’ve always known there were stark differences between them, but there are some similarities that link us all together. Like we all perform rituals for our faith, we follow one God, Allah, Yahweh. And we all do good works for salvation. Even though there is so much fighting, we are all trying to find peace."

She tucks his hair behind his ear and brings her hand back to her lap, but Yousef is quick to take it between his. He nods.

"It’s hard sometimes, for me, to keep faith," he admits quietly.

"I know."

"But I’m trying."

"I know."

He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her knuckles reverently. She does the same in turn.

**

They rearrange the itinerary so they spend the next day on Margaret Island – a long island located in the middle of the Danube – to enjoy the parks.

"Oh, a pedal cart!" Yousef exclaims.

"We’re getting a golf cart," Sana says.

Yousef pouts.

"No, I’m not _pedaling_."

His eyes widen.

" _Yousef_ …"

They get the pedal cart because Sana is too nice to her husband.

**

Yousef is entertained by the Musical Fountain, which has water spouting along with classical music. She almost feels badly for his followers having to go through so many Instagram stories of the same thing.

There’s even a basketball court, which they promptly take over until the sun sets because they are Sana and Yousef of Oslo, no matter what corner of the world they’re standing on.

**

Sana has heard variations of the same concept: _home is where the heart is_ and _people can be your home_ – whatever sentimental nonsense people like to hang as tacky art on doors or walls.

But, she’ll begrudgingly admit there’s some sort of truth to that. Oslo has its issues, but it has her family and her friends. She also knows that no matter where she is, if she has Yousef with her, she can’t _really_ be homesick, not completely.

She considers this as they get ready for bed the night before they fly back to Norway. Yousef is considering where they might go for their next trip – Sana suggests that _maybe_ they should stick to one place or at least stick to one country next time - and Sana keeps running over the things she needs to do before school starts again.

Soon they’ll return to their everyday lives, learning how to tie theirs together. It’s not as exciting as what they’ve done – some of it will probably be tedious – but Sana is ready.

"So, what do you want for dinner when we’re home? If it doesn’t take too long in the airport, I can go food shopping," Yousef offers once Sana is settled. "I can try couscous."

She smiles. "Is it bad to say I want krumkaker?"

He laughs and turns his face into his pillow.

He’s ready too.


End file.
